"I'm coming in, Aniki," chirped Keisuke after gently knocking on Ryosuke's door.
The rhythmical clacking of the keyboard ceased as his older brother turned away from his laptop to greet him.
"Keisuke," Ryosuke remarked in his usual stoic manner. "Is there anything you needed from me?"
The younger man had already gone and made himself completely comfortable on his brother's bed; arms and legs sprawled out against the velvet comforter and a cigarette dangling lazily out of his lips to top it all off. The epitome of slacker lifestyle, undoubtedly to the elder's dismay. He glanced momentarily at Ryosuke and gave a light shrug.
"Not particularly."
"Well then," Ryosuke sighed, "that's not a particularly valid reason to be hanging around my room at this time of night, now is it?" The exasperation in his voice could barely be hidden.
Wheels squeaking as he arose from his seat, Ryosuke moved to open the door to his balcony. Keisuke couldn't the stifle the noise he made when his brother suddenly backtracked with narrowed eyes and leaned over the bed, cigarette snatched straight out of his mouth before he could process anything. A curt reminder of why Ryosuke's title "White Comet" wasn't just for show, even off the road.
"And lose the tobacco in here. You know I don't like its smell on the sheets."
"It wasn't lit," Keisuke followed his brother outside, pouting.
"Yet," Ryosuke gave him a sideways glance, raising his eyebrow, and then averted his view towards their residence which had been engulfed by 1 o'clock darkness. Keisuke watched as the older man elegantly placed the seized cigarette between his own lips and began shuffling, feeling around his clothes' pockets, then frowning.
"I got you."
Reaching backwards into his jeans pocket, Keisuke pulled out a yellow lighter decorated with an unfitting cartoon chick print. His brother let out a chuckle as he leaned in to the small flame offered, the afterglow outlining his eyelashes to the point of near countability. The cigarette bobbed slightly as the smirk in his mouth grew.
"Quite an odd thing you've got there, Keisuke," he jeered, softly brushing his dark bangs to the side as the roll sparked to life, the scent of tobacco wafting out and greeting the cool night air.
"It was the first one my hand landed on in the convenience store," the blonde furrowed his brows, hastily stuffing the lighter back in the pocket, "and it ain't like I'm gonna spend an hour trying to pick out the perfect lighter like it's some kind of damn lipstick shade or somethin'."
"'Sides, I bet you'd think this one's still better than one with a different kinda 'chick' decked all over it," he mumbled as he scratched his nose, kicking lightly at the floorboards.
"I suppose that's true," Ryosuke let out another chortle under his breath, looking away.
Keisuke gulped quietly as his line of sight crept back towards his brother. Ryosuke took a long drag and then slowly leaned his head backwards, eyes closed, a thick ashy cloud of smoke doubled with a heavy sigh escaping his lips. In his younger brother's eyes, the man was the living dictionary entry of "maturity" and "masculinity." How could someone manage to make something as objectively unsightly as smoking seem the complete opposite?
Leave it to Ryosuke Takahashi to give even fucking up your respiratory system a good look, thought Keisuke.
"Thought you quit a while back, Aniki," Keisuke spoke up after a minute of silent observation. His hoodie strings weren't inherently interesting, but for some reason he was intent on fidgeting with them.
"I did," Ryosuke replied, taking another hit. "But to tell you the truth, seeing it in your mouth somewhat enticed me all of a sudden. Perhaps the stress is getting to me."
"Huh. 'sat so?"
"Perhaps. Although I hate to admit it."
"Ain't nothing to be ashamed of, Aniki," Keisuke inched closer to his brother's side, allowing their shoulders to just barely meet while his forearms dangled over the guardrail. "You're only human after all."
"Only human..." Ryosuke parroted in what sounded like a pained whisper. The dark made it difficult to see exactly what kind of expression his brother was wearing, but something in Keisuke's gut told him he probably wouldn't want to anyways.
Palpitations and sweat heeding their cue, Keisuke felt like he'd foolishly leaped butt-first atop a landmine.
His brother seemed miserable enough lately, all work and no play. Staying up till late hours like this on the daily, brown eyes glued to a screen and rigid hands flipping through papers upon papers every time Keisuke dropped in on him, clearly sleep deprived. Scurrying between med school and managing his newly formed racing team, trying to make everything work, all the while playing the role of The Good Son for Daddy and Mommy. He had to be miserable.
And it certainly didn't help that his rowdy, good-for-nothing mobster of a little brother was probably contributing to like, fifty percent of it. Maybe even more. So what right in hell did he have, trying to tell Ryosuke how to feel?
Keisuke shrunk all at once into the blackness, his towering 186-centimeter stature crumbling into no bigger than ten as he visualized himself under the scrutiny of his older brother's fastidious eyes if he so much as thought of wading astray after already being thrown a lifeline once before. Courtesy of the latter, of course. Ryosuke's gaze wasn't nearly as scornful as their father's—acres more benign and well-intentioned—though humbling, nonetheless.
The railing was dampening underneath the clench of his clammy palms. He couldn't bring himself to look at anything but his brother's parked white FC illuminated by the yellowing street lamp below. Did he do something different with the hood...?
The nicotine flowing through his nostrils secondhand with every breath his brother let out urged him to say something, anything.
"I-I mean," Keisuke hesitated, shifting his legs, "unless you wanna be an android or somethin'. You've already got the whole computer brain thing down pat."
He was met with silence save for another huff of smoke. He bit down until he tasted iron. Ripping the cigarette back from Ryosuke's lips for a quick cool down didn't seem like such a bad idea right now. It was his to begin with.
"I think it's pretty damn kickass. Kinda bizarre at times, gotta admit—," he blurted after taking a short breath, "—but still, kickass."
His lips then curled up in a mix of amusement and relief as Ryosuke's (extremely) rare bout of laughter flooded his ears. His heart somersaulted with every low chuckle that bounced out of his brother's throat. It felt like ages since Keisuke had heard this sound, and he was more than ecstatic to be its trigger.
Depressive Aniki Mode aborted successfully, he thought triumphantly.
"There it is," Ryosuke said with a relaxed sigh, turning towards Keisuke with his cheek resting against his palm, "there's that silly, illogical part of you, Keisuke."
"Well, I'm sorry for tryna change the mood," Keisuke grunted, embarrassed, and made a show of shoving his hands into his pockets. So much for that.
Ryosuke let out another soft chuckle as a small clump of ashes made their descent out of the butt after his light tapping of it.
"Don't be. I admire it."
Admire.
Keisuke felt his ears grow warm hearing the word. Ryosuke had spoken in an achingly gentle tone familiar to Keisuke from their previous heart-to-heart sessions, though they had become few and far between in recent times. Which might've been why there was currently a knot tying itself up in his stomach, but he wasn't exactly sure if it was this or the gracious helpings of hamburger steak he'd scarfed down earlier at Denny's. The smile his brother donned being totally visible at this angle definitely wasn't doing him any good, either.
"...Whassat supposed to mean..." He tried to ignore his oven-baked cheeks as he mumbled, silently praying that his brother's hawk eyes would fail to make out the red tint spreading virally across his face from the shadows. But knowing Ryosuke, he'd likely be able to pull even that off.
"It means just that," the older replied matter-of-factly, tilting his head. "I don't see the need to elaborate."
"Yeah, but..." Keisuke just couldn't get his head around the fact that his brother would ever admire anything about him. He'd probably get smacked upside his hilariously-bleached head for even suggesting it, but he was starting to think the tobacco had landed a critical hit on Ryosuke's braincells.
"It's me we're talkin' about here, Aniki."
"I'm aware of that, yes," Ryosuke nodded once, taking another drag and letting the smoke take its sweet time spilling out of his mouth.
"Then ain't that just a waste though?"
"How so?"
Keisuke would be damned if he thought there was a hint of alarm in Ryosuke's tone. He hung his head to look back down at his brother's car as his voice weakened to a mere shaky whisper.
"I ain't anyone worth admiring," he muttered, his fingers buzzing from the pain of clenching the railing too hard, "and especially not by you, Aniki."
"What on earth makes you say that?" Ryosuke sounded irritated now. Keisuke could tell by the way his feet had moved that he'd turned his body completely towards him. If he raised his head to face Ryosuke now, he knew he'd probably turn to something akin to the pudding he'd stashed away last week in his junk-filled closet.
"If anyone's gotta be admired, it's you," he took a deep breath and continued, "I mean, you're..."
"I'm?" No puff of smoke to pollute the quiet this time around.
"You're good at everythin', you've got your shit together, you look good no matter what you're doin', even smoking, for chrissakes!" he exclaimed, taking care not to wake their parents or disrupt the neighbours.
"You're like some kinda beast, got all this shit goin' on and you're losin' sleep over it, I can tell, 'cause you got those ugly dark circles showin' up under your eyes and the goddamn coffee keeps runnin' out the same day I put it in the cupboard and yet you never miss a beat or bitch about it, even with the old man on your ass 24/7! You're a legendary driver, an aspiring doctor and you still make the time to clean up after your scummy little brother's shit, when you don't even have to!"
"And this ain't jealousy, by the way," he continued through wavering breaths, eyes squeezed shut so as not to let anything accidentally leak out, "'cause I don't wanna take anything from you. I don't wanna overtake you. I'm fine ridin' a little farther behind you. Shit, I'm proud as hell I get to have a guy like you as a brother, my only brother. But I can't deny that you're everythin' I ever wanted to and still wanna be, should be, but just can't!"
What kind of look did Ryosuke have on his face right now as he selfishly word-vomited his guts out, he wondered? Was it one of anger? Disgust even?
"You're..." he whispered finally, lifting his head weakly.
"...You're perfect, Aniki." He hoped he didn't sound that pathetic, but it was probably too late to worry about it now.
"Hardly so. I'm far from it," came the barely audible reply after a few moments of haunting silence that jolted Keisuke even more than if it were a slap to the face. He whipped his head around as fast as his FD drifting on Akagi's curves, glassy eyes widening at the sight of his brother with clenched fists, biting his lip. Not angry. Not disgusted. Hurt.
"You're placing me on too high of a pedestal, Keisuke," his deep voice sliced through the darkness in sharp, agonizing swipes. "And it sickens me that you're putting yourself down in such a vulgar manner in the process."
"But it's true, Aniki!" the younger protested, choking back a sob.
"Listen to me, Keisuke," came the stern command. Keisuke's body froze and he immediately bowed his head back down. He felt a pair of fingers grip his chin and lift his head till he was face to face with his brother's trenchant eyes. Thankfully, he didn't crumble altogether. But he could feel the cracks forming.
"Look at me," he coaxed. "Do you remember that night I took you up to the pass for the first time?"
Keisuke sniffled. It wasn't too long ago, a couple of months, give or take. It had shaken him up so much, he'd probably never be able to forget. It was a night after he'd got home late from stirring up trouble on the streets as usual with his gang, tattered and bleeding, his father throwing out every threat imaginable and his mother desperately crying as he passed right by them into the hall. Ryosuke had come out of his room and grabbed him by the arm without a word, leading him back outside the house, loud curses and sobs lingering behind them, and shoved him in front of the passenger door of his FC.
"Get in," was all that came out of Ryosuke's mouth that night up until they reached the mountain pass, the short but point-blank command trickling off his lips like venom as he forcefully shut the door after seating himself behind the wheel, not even sparing his brother so much as a glance. The purring of the engine shifted to a mighty roar and Keisuke swallowed, boarding his brother's car silently as directed.
"Sure as hell do," Keisuke then mumbled after recollection, "I thought you were gonna pull a double-suicide or somethin', with how much lead you were rippin' on that thing up there, Aniki."
Ryosuke laughed, letting go of his brother's head to put the cigarette back in his mouth. The spot where his fingers touched left Keisuke with a burning sensation, even though he had been holding it gently.
"Did you really think I'd do something like that?"
"Sorta, yeah," he muttered, shrugging. "It'd make sense to try and get rid of a pain in the ass like me."
Ryosuke took a heavy sigh along with the huff of his smoke and ran his fingers through the jet-black strands on his head, glancing to the side.
"I wasn't planning on telling you this," he began slowly, "but when we got back from the drive, Father confronted me in the garage after you'd gone up to your room."
Keisuke listened carefully, directing his full attention to his brother.
"It goes without saying he was furious," Ryosuke continued with a bitter chuckle, staring at the cigarette in his fingers, "On one hand, we'd broken curfew on a weeknight. And on the other, I'd stolen you away before he could punish you himself. It really was the last straw for him then."
"He went on about how you were getting out of control, a 'lost cause,' and that he'd wanted to deal with it once and for all with his own two hands, and so he requested I take a step back in kind and not interfere. And I deftly refused." Ryosuke took another pull of the cigarette, glancing at a taken-aback Keisuke, a faint smirk appearing once again.
"What do you think Father did then, Keisuke?"
Keisuke felt the faint chill of earlier envelope him from head to toe, the scenario playing out in his mind. Defying the senior Takahashi was most definitely not a wise choice for either of the two. His jaw opened and shut a few times as he weakly shook his head in disbelief.
"No way, Aniki..." he breathed, "he couldn't have, the old bastard wouldn't—"
"Clean across my face," Ryosuke cut with a chuckle. "Twice, actually. Loud enough that Mother heard and came running in, tears and all."
Keisuke was horrified. He clenched his fists till he couldn't feel the pain of his nails digging into the skin anymore. Their father, no matter how angry he was and no matter how much hell Keisuke raised, had not once raised a hand on him. Even when it seemed like Keisuke was asking for it. But for that same hand to strike Ryosuke? It was simply unfathomable. Years of anger bubbling up now threatened to sprint back inside, break down his parents' bedroom door and erupt at his peacefully-sleeping father at the thought.
"If I'm being completely honest, it was the second most painful experience in my life," his brother said, pointing to him nonchalantly. "To put it in your words, it hurt like a bitch."
Keisuke let out a strained laugh despite himself, releasing his fists.
"Then if we're still being completely honest, didja cry, Aniki?" he jeered.
The corner of the older man's lips lifted ever so slightly as he tilted his head downwards, the silhouette of his dark locks swimming in the air.
"No," he replied calmly, "but I did get down on my knees."
Keisuke's smile disappeared and he took a step back.
"You're kidding, right?"
"I don't recall saying I was finished being honest," his brother countered impassively, looking back with an equally serious expression. Keisuke simply stood there, astonished yet again by his brother's spontaneity.
"I got down on my knees before Father for what was the first and hopefully last time in my life and I bowed," Ryosuke declared. "I lowered my head to the dirty garage floor in the middle of the night and I begged him."
Keisuke felt his chest grow heavy. He struggled to keep up with his own breathing. The bottom of his eyelids grew damp and his brother's figure was fading in and out of view. His limbs were burning up. He didn't know what he was mad at anymore. Or who.
"Why," was the only thing word his quivering lips could manage to utter.
"I asked him to spare you and to look past everything that had happened for the final time. I told him I'd be responsible for your each and every step from that moment on, that I could handle you myself, and that I would save you." Ryosuke's voice had dropped to a whisper.
"He ridiculed me and said I was wasting my time. 'There is nothing left to save, Ryosuke,' he told me."
It felt like a good time to have his legs give way, but Keisuke held his ground. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for his tears.
"But still, I begged him like a fool to give you to me," Ryosuke closed in on his brother after inhaling another round of smoke and reached out to gently brush the hiccupping younger man's faded mustard spikes back, his sturdy fingers holding their position between the strands. "And just look at what's come of that, Keisuke."
Keisuke's sobs were growing louder. The older man smiled weakly, vulnerably, completely un-Ryosuke-like, looking him straight in the eyes again. Keisuke wasn't crumbling anymore as much as he was about to melt.
"We've both managed to prove him wrong."
"Goddamnit, Aniki..."
The words were just barely choked out through gritted teeth and Keisuke couldn't restrain his head from falling forward, his forehead knocking into his brother's collarbone, seeking refuge against it. His fingers crept up and cautiously gripped the navy-coloured fabric, as if either one of them might vanish into the tobacco-laced mist if he didn't hold on. His mind was screaming ear-splittingly, pounding away at the inside of his head, but his sobs were for Ryosuke's ears alone, his pathetic tears caught and hid away conveniently in his older brother's shirt.
His brother simply ran his fingers back and forth slowly through the nest of bright hair fit neatly beneath his chin as the boy sobbed, and Keisuke found great satisfaction in the soothing movements, driving him to dig his face and fingertips deeper into the silent, steadfast Ryosuke's chest.
"You said somethin' about the old man slapping you being the second most painful experience in your life," he spoke in a small voice and looked up at Ryosuke from the tops of of his eyes. "Made me wonder what the first one was."
Keisuke watched the older man smile like he was wounded and take an extremely unstable sigh, making something in his own gut clench.
"It was helplessly watching a person I love hurt themselves," he grimaced, "and not knowing what to do until it was almost too late."
Keisuke's breath caught in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut as more damp heat gathered at their base.
He was, even if for a moment, at peace. In this place, in this person, in this neatly-ironed shirt he was so selfishly ruining, he finally found the acceptance he was yearning for since what felt like forever. Amidst the strangely harmonic turmoil of snot, tears, and fresh linen violated by the twang of nicotine he was drowning in, Keisuke felt like he wouldn't really mind if he were to die this very second.
"Shit," he sniffled between sobs, "I was 'posed to be the one comfortin' you. This is so lame."
"You've done quite enough," Ryosuke hummed against his brother's scalp.
The dampened fabric rumpled as Keisuke shook his head against Ryosuke's chest, and it took every ounce of his sanity to not explode of embarrassment when he heard Ryosuke laugh as he clumsily reached his hand upwards, blindly feeling his way into the silky strands to mimic the way his older brother was caressing his own hair.
"It ain't fair if you're the only one looking cool all the time," Keisuke mumbled, face still buried in the shirt.
"Hm," he teased, "I wouldn't mind providing you with advice on that alongside your driving analyses every now and then."
Keisuke grunted and playfully shoved his chuckling older brother back, laughing along as he vigorously wiped his nose into his sleeve paw.
"I definitely ain't gonna be able to fall back asleep now," he sighed, stretching his arms, "you, Aniki?"
"I don't believe I will either," he replied, glancing at his wristwatch. "And there's not much we can do cooped up here to pass the time..." Keisuke could barely contain himself when Ryosuke's eyes met his with a mischievous glint. It was times like this the two were on the exact same wavelength.
"Go for a run?" He was practically jumping now.
"We'll make it two," Ryosuke replied, removing the cigarette from his mouth after taking a longer drag than usual. As he walked past Keisuke, he simultaneously placed the cigarette back in it's rightful place snug between the blonde's lips, and slinked his other hand into his brother's back pocket resulting in a surprised yelp from Keisuke, who turned around hurriedly to find his beloved chicks in the smirking Ryosuke's hand.
"Let me hold onto this," he slipped it into his shirt pocket, "just in case."
"But ya quit."
"Once in a while wouldn't hurt."
"Well, where's your lighter?" Keisuke raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"I've..." Ryosuke stopped just before the entrance to his room and scratched his head, looking away. "Misplaced it, it seems."
Keisuke smacked his mouth so as to minimize the volume of the laughs that escaped it.
"'Misplaced', huh?" he shot his brother a smug look and crossed his arms. "How very illogical of you, Aniki."
The sight of Ryosuke beaming across from him, leaning handsomely against the doorframe, holding his dark bangs in place as the night breeze dared to dishevel them and carry away what little tobacco lingered in his breaths, the hilariously-shaped stain he'd left on what he knew was Ryosuke's favourite shirt; it all made him wish that memories were tangible. When Ryosuke wouldn't be here, he needed to take this moment with him wherever he went, to hold it by the hand, to fasten it into his FD's passenger seat and ride around with it on the mountain just before dawn. To light it's smoke, cry like a baby into it long after midnight, and lean on it when he was tired. To look over the balcony with at the empty parking spot below. To run away with it when it seemed like the whole world was after his head again.
As he smiled in anticipation of his brother's retort, Keisuke realized it seemed kind of stupid to mull over that wish this very instant.
Right now, Ryosuke was still here.
"I'm only human, after all."
